In mortal bondage and consent to die That Adam's offspring might inherit Heav'n!- Its all pervading and essential joy !— Thou art twin-born with Love, the heart must hold Thou'rt like Religion, meek, long-suffering, fraught Her's was th' exalted wish that bid me breathe JAN. 1832. DO NOT FORGET! BY CHARLES MAY. Do not forget, o'er other scenes Oft let the joys that once were thine Honours may dazzle, wealth allure, But there are joys that never fade- D May ne'er, to follow wealth and fame, THE WINNER WEARS. A TALE OF CHARLES THE SECOND'S ROYSTERING TIMES. "CERTES she hath the brightest eye in Christendom! Its starry lustre transcends the sheen of crystal; its azure hue puts to shame the blue sky of a summer morn; and its heart wounding glance is more to be dreaded than that of a basilisk. By the royal martyr's head, I would lose a limb to gain her hand!" "She is worthy such a sacrifice! and then her lips-Zoons! they would tempt an anchorite to taste them! The richest coral, moulded by the fires of love, could not attain their smiling curve, or reach, even in appearance, their delicious ripeness. Oh! I shall run stark mad if I do not possess her!" ་་ 'Well, sirs, ye have spoken in round raptures of her charming face; but what say ye to the charms of her pocket, which jingle to the tune of some few thousand marks? By the nose of Nol, an' old Rowley don't reward my father's services in his cause by bestowing upon me her hand, I will turn Puritan, and re-act the Whitehall Tragedy!" Such were the exclamations of three young sparks on their way from Oxford (where they had been to visit some college friends) to Peterborough. They had gained the inmost fastnesses of Whittlebury Forest, and were now seeking a retreat, beneath the shadowy foliage of a sycamore, from the noontide sun, under which, for the last half hour, they had been riding. The first speaker was a tall, handsome cavalier, whose raven locks hung proudly upon his blue doublet, and whose large black eye bespoke him to be of gentle blood. He was named Aubert St. Leon, and boasted of no patrimony beyond his nomenclature, a Love makes a Man. tried sword, and a tough arm to wield it. Between him and the second speaker there existed a cousin-german relationship, although no traces of resemblance were apparent; for Wilfred Massinger-Aubert's relativewas conceited, arrogant, and impetuous; besides which, he stood no very equivocal chance of inheriting a good estate and swelling title. He was not, however, at present too much incumbered with the weight of cash, though every way inclined to spend it, and was frequently forced to borrow from St. Leon's limited store to assist in supporting his extravagance. This was the sole impeller of even the cold civility with which he treated his cousin, and had the latter not been enabled occasionally to supply his wants, our doughty cavalier of high pretensions would never have vouchsafed an exchange of syllables with the more prudent and generous St. Leon. A truly noble mind is unsuspicious of deceit in others, and thus it was with Aubert: he suspected not that the very man who flattered whilst importuning him for gold would, in his absence, ridicule him, and invent plots of which he was the intended victim. All this was, by Wilfred, considered as mighty wit, and the associates of his aimless life applauded it as such, but none more so than his boon companion, Francis Vernon, whom we beg to introduce to our readers as the third speaker in the preceding dialogue. He was of a kindred spirit with Massinger, yet possessed of more solidity pleasure wooed and won him at every turn, but he invariably, in the stirring chase after her smiling flowers, had a more fixed purpose than the mere ephe meral gratification of the passing moment; whilst his friend was content with inhaling their sweets, and then heedlessly casting them from him-too frequently crushed and despoiled. Vernon also possessed qualifications which the other had not; his powers of calculation were good, his imagination fertile in expedients to better his fortunes, and his designs crafty and well-laid. He always examined the premises, principle, and propositions of a plan before he entered upon it, whereas Wilfred heedlessly dashed headlong into the execution of any rare project, without ascertaining whether he should fall into a rocky ravine, or a foaming torrent. In two things, however, the trio entirely assimilated: all were alike brave-and in want of a rich wife. The subject of their converse was the highly renowned Katrine Penrudrock, daughter to Sir Guy of that name, and heiress to his immense possessions in and near the right ancient town of Leicester. How shall I describe her whose charms beggared all description? Bright, airy sylph! what language boasts of sufficient poetic variety to paint with fidelity thy peerless loveliness? Ah me! none! and thine exquisite form, thy seraph-like eye, thy fair brow-oh! so delicately fair!-must all pass undescribed. But, sainted one, I can speak of thy sparkling virtues-I can dwell upon the bewitching playfulness which invested every look and tone, proclaiming thee the queen of all hearts; and I can touch upon thy gentleness of manners, which would not suffer thee, to inflict a pang upon even thy most annoying suitors. Yet why need I dwell upon this subject? Let the artist of the mind as well as person direct his contemplatory observation to the beautiful and innocent of our own age, and he will find many many living portraits of the Lady Katrine Penruddock. Sir Guy was one of the few bluff old cavaliers who had sacrificed every thing for his monarch during the civil wars, and been adequately rewarded for his loyalty. He was now a hearty old blade of sixty years standing, respected for his principles, adored for his hospitality, and laughed at for his eccentricities. Few could count a greater number of scars won in fight, and few boasted of more marks for each blow; his principal delight was, nevertheless, in his daughter: she was the prop of his declining years, and he gratified her every wish-her every whim; and truly the young lady was at times very whimsical, as, at certain periods, she would retire for hours together to a flowery alcove at the extremity of her father's park, and seclude herself from all society, despite the inducements which a glittering train of lovers held out for her to mix in it. Various were the conjectures which this occasioned, but, as she assumed an air of impenetrable mystery whenever questioned upon the subject, the ill-natured, scandalizing world set it down as an unequivocal fact, that she only went for the sheer conceited purpose of gazing, like another Narcissus, upon her own charms in a placid lymph which served to keep green the verdure around her favourite bower. Sir Guy Penruddock, amongst other acts of generosity, had adopted the orphan son of a deceased brother-inarms, and reared him as a child of his own. When the youth arrived at a proper age he was dispatched to Ox. ford College, there to fit himself for one of the learned professions, and once a quarter Sir Guy journeyed from Leicester to see him. His third visit was made about the time of the commencement of our history, and after remaining some days with his protegé, the cumbrous, gilded coach was put in order for his return. A modern Jehu would have lifted up his eyes and wondered to have beheld the vehicle in which the old knight deposited his propria persona. It was but little inferior in size to a waggon of the present day, and rumbled majestically along, drawn by four Flanders' mares, as sleek and as fat as dray horses. On the coach-box-then a very recent addition to carriages-there sat a tall, gaunt looking figure, in a leathern jerkin and buff trunks, over which were drawn a pair of red stockings with blue and yellow stripes, and behind the coach were two lacquies, whose spruce attire shone in gaudy contrast to the plain habiliments of the driver. The cavalcade was es corted by some half dozen grooms, well mounted and armed, together with a led horse for the knight's convenience when he wished to enjoy a little fresh air. In this manner he proceeded till he reached Syresham, where he put up for the night, (twentyseven miles being then no inconsiderable distance to travel in one day,) and on the following morning, a little before noon, he recommenced his route. He had already attained the outskirts of Whittlebury Forest, when the heat and closeness of his carriage became so intolerable, that he mounted his horse and rode onward in the van of his attendants, enjoying the cool zephyr which wafted a thousand delicious scents about him, and fanned his heated brow. "Would that old Rowley would take my advice, and canter a little more among such scenes as these, instead of running about the park after masques and raree-shows," said the old knight, half aloud, as he looked, smilingly, first to the right, then to the left, and, lastly, straight forward, upon the green hills which every where bounded the landscape, excepting that part occupied by the forest. "Pize on the merry rogue! he'd shake a score of years from his shoulders by doing so. Adad! I'll bind him hand and foot, and bring him perforce, if he will not of his own accord." Then, urging his sluggish horse to a quicker pace, he struck into one of those popular ballads of the time, bearing the burden of "The_cavalier king, hey down derry!" In this pleasant mood he rode on for some time until he reached a long, low, whitewashed building, which proved to be one of the numerous meeting-houses erected by the Puritans all over the kingdom; and, as it was Sunday, a conventicle was being held at the very time Sir Guy passed, whilst a long, monotonous, yet-owing to the distance-not inharmonious, swell of voices, announced that they were singing psalms. In consequence of the strict observance which the Puritans, when in power, had exacted of every holy day, the sudden loose afforded by a restoration of monarchy was for some time afterwards productive of the opposite extreme, and, till the affair was seriously looked into by the clergy, a degree of licentiousness and disregard of religious ceremonies prevailed, that threatened speedily to undermine and abolish all pious duties. It will not, therefore, excite surprize that the ancient cavalier, in his love for sport, allied to an inkling for revenging former grievances, felt inclined to ridicule the quondam men of might, and accordingly, in a lusty voice, he commenced singing a favourite canticle immediately beneath the window of the place of worship, beginning thus: "I sing of a nose-a terrible nose- This interruption was followed by an instantaneous and profound silence within the building. "Aha!” cried the knight, “I've quieted the crop-eared knaves, with a "Troll lol, Down with old Nol, plague to 'em!" and elated by success he raised himself in his stirrups, and burst into another of his popular ditties— And when he is down, what then? The king shall enjoy his own again." "Peace! profane Sabbath-breaker!" said a stern voice; and on looking round Sir Guy beheld a figure in sad-coloured vestments issue from the house of prayer. This was a noted preacher of his time, named Daniel But the Puritan moved not, nay, he half-jestful, half-serious altercation even planted himself more centrically in the way, and said, "Man of Baal, I will not stir; thou hast openly set at nought the Lord's ordinance to keep holy the Sabbath-day, and, as a true servant, I will reprove thee for it." "Round-headed cur!" shouted Penruddock, "dost ken who I am?" "Nor know I, nor care I; thou darest not call thyself a son of Solomon the wise; nor of David the good; nor of Joshua—” "I am the son of none," cried the knight, laughing loudly at his fancied wit. 66 Nay, never purse thy brows, man, it is Sir Guy Penruddock you look upon." "Sir Guy Penruddock! Oh, Sir Guy Penruddock! The Lord deliver me from Sir Guy Penruddock!" cried the Puritan, quoting a portion of Oliver Cromwell's famous exclamation to Sir Harry Vane in the House of Commons. "Pestilence catch thee! Another such word, and—” "Another, and another such!" interrupted Stand-fast-in faith, with a dark smile of energy gleaming on his sallow features. "We are not so depressed but that we shall rise again like giants refreshed with wine; and as the Lord liveth, Amalekite, I will gird up my loins to smite thee hip and thigh as David did the Philistines of old!" On his saying this, a person in the crowd, which had by now assembled from the meeting-house, glided away, and in a few minutes returned with eight men, well mounted, and a riderless horse for the preacher. During his absence the knight maintained a with the Puritan; but seeing that matters were likely to come to a serious termination, he retired a few paces, and said, "Why, this is quite mirth-moving! In sober sadness, dost see my retinue accoutred in buff and bandaliers? Wilt be mad enough to tempt us further?" The Puritan made no answer, but, with a fixed intensity of purpose flashing from his eye, he slowly mounted his steed, and as slowly drawing his long tuck, or stabbing sword, he examined its edge and point; then suddenly raising the arm which held it, he waved it in the glancing sunbeams, and exclaiming, "Thy blood be upon thine own head!" spurred onwards his horse, followed by his devoted band of adherents. "Out whinyards! at 'em brave hearts! pink 'em!" shouted Sir Guy, rushing forward with drawn weapon; but albeit his servants, not being so accustomed to bloodshed as their mas ter, speculated upon the contingency of their opponents being joined by those who were now merely idle spectators, and turned their horses' heads towards Towcester, leaving Sir Guy to defend himself as he might. The coachman, however, formed an exception to the panic-struck domestics, and remained in his seat, looking upon the affray as though it was simply the representation of one; but when he perceived Penruddock to be alone and surrounded with enemies, he at once drew a light sword from his belt, and, springing amongst them, laid about him right heartily, crying, all the while, in a loud, discordant voice, |